


What happens in the wine fair...

by WinterfellStark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Crush, Crush at First Sight, Drinking & Talking, F/F, Mentions of Cersei/Sansa, Sansa crushes on Margaery hard... but who wouldn't?, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:29:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3840541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterfellStark/pseuds/WinterfellStark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sansa Stark is forced to attend a wine fair with Elinor Tyrell, she never expected many of the things that happen that evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What happens in the wine fair...

Sansa’s not into wine, that’s a fact. And yet there she is, on her way to a wine fair while she asks herself why on earth she’s doing that. She blames Elinor, because of course it’s Elinor’s fault (it’s always hers). She was always plotting, that girl. Somehow, Elinor had “forgotten” to tell Sansa that the same weekend she had invited her to the capital, the wine fair was also happening. And of course, Elinor’s presence was demanded. 

The fact that it had been Elinor’s idea from the start didn’t come out as a surprise, once that Sansa discovered what was going on. Elinor had told her many times that she needed to meet her friends and family, because, and Sansa quotes verbatim “they all rock”. And now there she is… Sansa may not care about wine, but she knows enough about her friend, and Elinor being a Tyrell means that there’s wine instead of blood running through her veins. Winemaking has been the family business for centuries, more or less. Whether that was an exaggeration or not (the centuries part, not the wine instead of blood “fact”) Sansa doesn’t know - she didn’t bother checking either. She has other things to worry about, like how she has issues when it comes to being with a large group of strangers, for starters. When this happens Sansa gets easily uncomfortable and sometimes it’s quite noticeable. That’s why she’s not sure if Elinor’s making the right choice by bringing her to the wine fair. Okay, so she wants Sansa to meet her friends and family, but… why not just one or two at a time? They’re all going to think she’s a freak and she’s going to be mortified. 

“Elinor, let’s reconsider. All of them are going to be there.” Sansa says, whining like she’s been doing for the whole taxi ride. 

“Exactly! And you’re my friend too… so you’re coming!” Elinor gives her a charming smile, which means that she’s completely ignoring her complaints. 

“Coming… like winter?” Sansa forgets her whining for a second, she can’t get let the opportunity pass. Family motto! 

“Who cares about winter? Hopefully you’ll be coming like… other things, if you know what I mean.” Elinor wriggles her eyebrows suggestively. 

Sansa makes a disgusted noise. “Ew. Gross.” 

“But you started it! Besides, would it be such a bad thing, Sansa? It’s like you’re collecting points to become a nun or something.” 

Elinor points at a large group of people before Sansa can go back to complaining.

“Ah, there they are!” 

The moment Sansa’s been dreading is about to happen and she didn’t think quick enough. She should have run away! Although, truth be told… Elinor would certainly catch her. She’s seen her run and she’s like a cheetah compared to her… gazelle. Sansa chastises herself internally, there’s no need to be such a nerd, not even in her inner thoughts. 

Her friend’s grip on her hand is firm while she walks with all the decision that Sansa lacks of. Before they arrive, someone sees Elinor from afar and they cheer and welcome her loudly. Sansa feels extremely out of place already. 

“Come, I’ll introduce you.” 

Elinor finally lets go of her hand to kiss and hug all the people there, Sansa can’t help but think now’s the moment to run away, when Elinor’s all distracted. But it’s too late too soon. Elinor links her arm with Sansa’s, once again preventing any chances of escape. 

“For all of you who don’t know her - and that’s everyone here - this is my girl, Sansa. Everyone, Sansa.” Elinor’s showing a big grin and Sansa tries to mirror it, gods she’s so nervous. “You can come by and introduce yourselves whenever you feel like it, but don’t be dicks, don’t do it all at once.” 

There’s a general murmur of agreement and Sansa’s silently thanking her friend for not making her say hello to everyone at the same time. There must be between ten and fifteen people, why so many of them!? Some of those do approach Sansa and introduce themselves (she won’t remember their names in a minute) but most of the others just smile at her before they keep drinking their wine, minding their own business. Sansa looks at her own empty glass, the one that she got when she bought the ticket, and she wonders if (or when) she should start drinking. Is there an appropriate amount of time that one has to wait after the arrival? 

“Do you want some?” Someone says, close to Sansa’s ear. 

She turns and, just like that, she’s facing a girl that’s too pretty to be true. For a second, all that Sansa can think of is “Where does a girl like this gets created?” Sansa can’t say anything, she’s still processing _her_ , still recovering for those incredibly blue eyes. Given her silence, the stranger does the talking. 

“Where are my manners? I’m Margaery, this fool’s cousin.” She says, nodding towards Elinor. 

“Heard that!”

“Good! You were supposed to.” Margaery, who’s laughing softly, turns to Sansa again. Her insanely mesmerizing blue eyes stare at her with intent, for a few seconds she says nothing. “So you’re the famous Sansa.” 

Now she definitely has to talk, gods. How are sentences made? How does her mouth work? On top of that, hearing the girl pronounce her name has made her go back to her teenage years, all giggly inside. 

“I don’t know about that.” Danger, crush alert. Don’t panic. “I’m just Sansa.” 

“I don’t believe that for a second. She’s always speaking of you… Sansa this, Sansa that…” Sansa doesn’t feel like she’s complaining, her tone is friendly and her smile is warm. It’s more like she’s in awe, somehow. But that can’t be, can it? “I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time. So much hype!” 

“Hype? Gods, now I’m worried about the things she’s been saying.” Sansa’s embarrassment must be quite obvious, but still, she tries to act as if everything was okay, as if she wasn’t thinking _and this is why the gods made me gay, because how could I meet you and not worship you?_

“All good things, all good things.” Margaery winks an eye at her and Sansa can’t hide a silly grin. “Now, let’s fix that empty glass of yours. Try this.” 

She’s not asking anymore, and that decision makes Sansa melt a little bit more inside. Margaery pours wine into her glass and as the dark red liquid starts to fill the cup slowly, Sansa feels Margaery’s eyes on her. She doesn’t return the look, she chooses to stare at the glass instead, but she’s definitely blushing, damn. 

Sansa raises her hand when she’s decided there’s enough wine, and Margaery stops pouring. A drop of wine slid down the neck of the bottle and Margaery uses the tip of her finger to catch it and then (and this time Sansa’s definitely staring) she licks it. Whether she’s doing it slowly or whether it’s Sansa’s mind that is playing it in slow motion, she doesn’t know. 

“Ours is the best.” Margaery says with an amused grin on her face. She’s visibly joking and, apparently, completely unaware of the effect she’s having on Sansa. “And I’m not saying that just because it pays my bills.” 

_Be normal. Act normal. Focus on the wine, not on her._ Sansa doesn’t know what she’s doing when she smells the content of the glass, but the action seems familiar from all those movies and tv shows she’s watched over the years. Somehow it’s the most appropriate thing Sansa can think of. She’s far from an expert and she’s afraid to show it, Margaery probably knows a great deal about wine and Sansa’s not about to embarrass herself (further?) in front of her. When she takes a sip she tries to find ways to describe it… but to no avail. To her, it just tastes sweet and delicious, which is probably a really dumb way to talk about it. That leaves Sansa with just one choice, she hums. 

“Do you like it?” Margaery asks, tilting her head just slightly. Gods, her eyes. Sansa remembers Elinor’s comment about becoming a nun… well, the thoughts she’s having in that moment, she hopes, are nothing like the thoughts that nuns must have. 

“It’s… it’s very good.” 

The way that Margaery smirks while she watches her closely makes Sansa believe that she’s figuring her out just by looking. It’s one of those stares, almost too deep, too intense. But Sansa can’t look away, won’t look away. Plus, the fact that Margaery’s standing quite close to her, so close that Sansa’s able to smell her perfume (Sansa’s bets are on something with strawberry) makes it even harder to concentrate on having a regular conversation. She doesn’t know whether to be thankful or not for being so crammed together. 

“Let me know whenever you want more, okay? And don’t let these idiots give you the cheaper one.” Margaery jokingly glares at some of her friends, who are minding their own business. “They’re just here for the booze, but some of us do have some criteria. I’ll let you know what’s the good stuff, just let me know, okay?”

“I will.” Sansa stares. She’s staring, gods, and she can’t stop herself. She could do that for the rest of the evening, if it wouldn’t be creepy.

“Good.” Margaery winks an eye at her, smiling. Second time she’s done that to Sansa and gods, it makes her knees go weak. 

Sansa struggles with what to say next. She feels like her inner awkwardness is showing every second she doesn’t say anything, but if it is, Margaery’s too polite to say anything. And before Sansa can try to be kind of normal for once, another one of Elinor’s friends drags Margaery away from her. Okay, she doesn’t know her but she already hates her. How dare she take Margaery away from her? To hell with the road trip story or whatever that she’s telling Margaery about. Sansa doesn’t care, she just wants to keep talking to her. 

“Hey!” 

“Hey yourself.” 

“Are you okay?” Elinor stares at Sansa with expectation. She had told her earlier that if she felt too uncomfortable, they’d leave early. Elinor doesn’t want that to happen, that much is clear. 

“I’m having fun, don’t worry.” 

“Marg’s great, isn’t she?” 

“Yeah, she’s nice.” 

_Nice. Way to describe the most perfect girl you've seen, Sansa_. Who also happens to be her best friend’s cousin. Gods, why does this happen to her!? She shrugs her feeling off as she goes back to talk to Elinor. The wine that Margaery gave her is indeed delicious, Sansa tries to savor it. It makes her think of the girl who served it to her, which makes her happier than it should.

From time to time, someone approaches to talk to Elinor and they end up introducing themselves to Sansa too. For once, that’s okay with her. The truth is, she’s a lot more confident now that she’s had a few positive interactions with people. It’s actually quite nice. 

 

One of the reasons why Elinor told Sansa that she wanted her there is that Alyn, who’s Elinor on and off boyfriend (current phase: off) was going to attend the wine fair too. He arrives not long after they do and although he doesn’t immediately go to introduce himself to Sansa, she sees him around. Most importantly, she sees him with Elinor, and by the looks of it… their off phase might be coming to an end. They laugh, talk really close to each other and use any excuse to touch each other. They think they’re being subtle, but the truth is that, from the outside, it all looks pretty silly and adorable. Sansa can’t help but smile and roll her eyes internally. 

“Bored?” 

Sansa’s heart skips a beat. 

“No, not at all.” She answers, mustering 

Margaery sits next to her and leans on the bench. She’s awfully close to Sansa, a couple of centimeters more and, on top of her scent, Sansa will be able to feel the heat radiating from her body. Gosh. Margaery looks around, she’s visibly relaxed and her smile never leaves her face. She doesn’t pay much attention to Sansa, but Sansa knows that she’s aware of the fact that she’s looking. Sansa wishes she could turn away, look at something else, but Margaery’s too hypnotic. There’s something about her that makes Sansa want to know more. Maybe it’s her attitude, the way that she presents herself to the world. She’s proud and confident, but she doesn’t flaunt it, she’s comfortable in her own skin and that’s something that Sansa can admire, since she’s so awkward in hers. She just… Can’t. Stop. Staring.

When Margaery finally turns to her, Sansa’s startled by the action. She felt like she was staring at a painting and suddenly that painting came to life. She didn’t see it coming, despite how obvious it was. 

“Would you want to accompany me? I’m in charge of buying the next bottle of wine.” She asks, in the most charming way. Sansa would be a fool to refuse, so she just nods, unable to say a single word. Margaery smiles and then she signals to Elinor, who was staring at them from afar. “El, I’m stealing your girl for a bit, if that’s okay with you.” 

Elinor, despite being busy laughing at whatever Alyn said, gives them a thumbs up. 

Sansa doesn’t have a lot of time to think about what’s going to happen because Margery grabs her hand and, even though it’s just to guide her away from the crowd, Sansa’s heart does silly things. Wow, how did that happen? 

They’re not that far from the Tyrell booth and Margaery lets go of her hand soon. Way too soon, in Sansa’s opinion.

“That’s Loras, my brother.” Margaery nods towards the booth. “He’s a bit older than I am, although he doesn’t act like it.” 

There, the aforementioned Loras is pouring wine in several glasses while in the middle of a friendly conversation with some customers. Sansa can see a faint resemblance between the two of them; his hair, curlier than his sister’s (maybe because it’s shorter?) moves in the same mesmerizing way than Margaery’s. Sansa notices that the moment when he starts laughing. 

When he sees them, he beams at his sister. Now _that’s_ where he sees the most resemblance, in the way that they laugh. 

“You have to be careful with him, he’d sell ice to an eskimo.” Margaery says, loud enough for him to listen. “But he’s quite a good guy.”

“Are you, by any chance, talking about my talents?” He smiles widely and leans on the counter to kiss Margaery on the cheek. 

Then, and although Margaery introduces the two of them, the conversation quickly turns to booth-stuff that Sansa doesn’t understand nor care about, but all is good because it gives her a good excuse to look at Margaery again without it being too weird. Her bliss lasts too little because by then, more people arrive and Loras has to go back to work, not before he sells one bottle of red wine to them, after all, that’s the reason why they’re there.

Margaery looks at the bottle, checking its back before putting it on her purse. Then she turns to Sansa. Margaery tilts her head as if she was wondering about something. In the end she finally asks. 

“Could I possibly convince you to take a short walk around? It’s incredibly dull to just stand there, drinking.” 

There it is again, that flutter in her chest.

“Sure, sounds fun.” Sansa answers as if it wasn’t a big deal. Then she thinks _“wait, it’s not”._

They walk in silence for a bit, but Margaery grows tired of it and she starts with the small talk. Sansa knows that she’s enjoying herself way too much, but she’s not harming anyone, is she? So what, she enjoys the company of a quite intelligent and equally pretty girl. Who wouldn’t, really. 

Then things take the wrong turn, which shows that nothing goes ever according to plan. Margaery was in the middle of a story about Elinor and her when they were little kids when Sansa interrupts her. 

“Oh shit!” 

Margaery frowns when she hears Sansa’s curse. Sansa thinks that it’s funny how they’ve barely known each other and yet, Margaery already knows that it’s not something she usually does or says. The other girl’s eyes question her and Sansa wonders how to proceed. 

“My ex is over there.” Sansa mutters. “And I really don’t want to talk to her.” 

If Margaery is surprised by the female pronoun, she doesn’t show it. She just turns around and looks where Sansa had been looking, visibly curious about it. Sansa had expected many things from that day, but never that. 

“ _That’s_ your ex.” It’s a statement not a question, yet Sansa nods. Margaery sounds surprised now. “Cersei Lannister?” 

Sansa’s eyes widening in shock when she hears her ex girlfriend’s name coming from Margaery. “You know her?” 

“Do I know her?” Margaery snorts, as if the mere idea of not knowing Cersei was crazy. “She’s one of our best clients. She could pretty much fund our winery by herself.” 

The joke doesn’t come out as a shock since Sansa had been in a relationship with that woman for more than a year, more than enough time to realize that Cersei was a big fan of red wine. Or any kind of wine, really, but she was particularly found of red. 

“Didn’t know she swung that way.” Margaery mutters, ignorant of Sansa’s musings. 

“She… she’s complicated.” 

Margaery arches an eyebrow, but even if she wants to know more she doesn’t ask. Maybe she’s not drunk enough or at all to forget about politeness and good manners. Or maybe she doesn’t really care. 

Sansa can’t help but look at Cersei again, she notices that her personal magnetism is still intact, she is, as it was usual, surrounded by people who probably want something (money) from her. Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, the older woman turns and stares back at her. Sansa’s heart starts racing… No, that wasn’t supposed to happen either. She just wanted to take a quick look before she fled the scene. If she could run away in that moment, or hide under the ground, she would. It’s funny how she never expected to cross paths with Cersei after the break up, she thought that they were way too different for their worlds to collide… silly Sansa, for thinking that she wouldn’t be in a wine event. 

Margaery frowns, and if Sansa weren’t freaking out, she would think that it’s quite endearing how the other girl looks like when she’s confused (she bets it’s something that doesn’t normally happen to her). 

“She saw me, fuck.” Sansa mutters, answering Margery’s silent question. Then she whines. “And she’s coming over.” 

Margaery’s weirded out expression turns into a grin, a wicked one. But Sansa’s not fully aware of it because she’s looking at Cersei with the corner of her eye. 

“I really like it when you curse.” 

In the middle of her panic, Sansa sees a strange twinkle in Margaery’s eyes and before she knows it, the girl’s kissing her. It’s so shocking at first that she doesn’t react, but it lasts for just a second because then she’s kissing her back. She doesn’t question it, she doesn’t think twice about it. Margaery tastes like wine, Sansa understands now why people are so obsessed with that drink. If wine tastes half as good as Margaery does, who wouldn’t be addicted to it? She’d also try to find endless ways to describe it in detail. Her train of thoughts stops because Margaery bites her bottom lip and her hand slides behind her neck, as if she wanted to keep Sansa in place. And then there’s the tongue, gods, her tongue. If that’s not enough to short-circuit her brain, then what is it? 

Margaery breaks the kiss way too soon, her lipstick’s a bit smudged and her cheeks are way rosier than they were before, just for that Sansa wants to kiss her again. Of course, she doesn’t because she’s too stupid and too shocked about what just happened. Woah. Her most coherent thought. 

“Is she gone?” 

Margaery’s fingers play with Sansa’s belt as she speaks, which makes it hard for Sansa to concentrate on her words. Extremely hard. “Hmm?”

“Lannister. Is she gone?” Margaery asks again. 

Sansa takes a metaphoric punch right to the stomach, it hurts so much that she almost gets the wind knocked out of her. Silly Sansa, for believing that Margaery would want to kiss her because she felt something for her. Silly, silly girl, always so naive. 

Her brain replays all those times when she was a kid, how they told her that she’d grow out of her naiveness… and of course, she had believed it. Wasn’t it appropriate and ironic? Yet, there she is now, making the same mistakes she always did. With a heavy heart she looks for Cersei but the woman is nowhere to be seen and Sansa can’t even feel relieved about it. 

“Yeah, she’s gone.” She tries to keep her voice in check. Don’t break down, she repeats to herself. Don’t. 

 

Sansa doesn’t drink after that. Alcohol would surely help her with the bitterness she’s feeling, which is precisely why she doesn’t want any. If she lets herself, at least for a while, feel the misery that came with the realization, maybe that will finally teach her, maybe she’ll learn and prevent it from happening again. It’s easy to lie to herself. 

People still try to include Sansa in the conversation and she pretends that everything is okay, her politeness knows no limits. Sansa laughs with them, and although it never reaches her eyes they don’t realize, they don’t know her… Besides, most of them are way too drunk, and the only one who would see through her façade is Elinor, who’s talking to other people and not really paying much attention to her. She’s lucky in that way. 

She sighs. The wine fair stopped being funny a while ago, Sansa wishes that she could leave. It’s been a while since they’ve been there and Elinor’s group is getting seriously wasted, and the boys are being… well, boys. They remind her of her own older brothers, who always used to play like that, fighting and hitting each other when they were in front of girls. What were they trying to prove? They all look rather stupid, if you ask her. Sadly for her she couldn’t possibly leave since she was staying in Elinor’s place. Had she known, she would have booked a room somewhere, damn it. It’s quite disappointing that time traveling is still a thing out of science fiction. 

When Elinor sits next to her she can almost taste the alcohol in her breath. She’s seen Elinor drunk other times and it’s been way worse, so that not-as-drunk-Elinor is okay to be with. As long as Sansa doesn’t have to hold her head and her hair while she throws up, Sansa won’t judge the intake of alcohol she wants to have. 

“Is he flirting with her?” 

Sansa doesn’t need to ask, she’s definitely asking about Alyn, who despite Elinor’s assurance that they are completely over, they clearly aren’t. Imagining that she’s rolling her eyes, Sansa looks at the boy who’s talking to some other girl and, honestly? They just look like two people talking, nothing more, nothing less. Elinor’s must be looking at them through jealousy tinted glasses, otherwise Sansa really doesn’t get it. But as a good friend, it’s her duty to try to make Elinor feel better. Or something. 

“What? No!” Sansa shakes her head and gives Elinor what she hopes is a reassuring smile. “They’re just talking, seriously.” 

Elinor sulks, she’s not completely convinced, and the mood suits Sansa well, she’s not feeling all too happy either. The kiss keeps replaying on her mind and she just… she wishes it all had been different. She wishes she could have stopped it before it happened, or that she would have realized it was just a way of making Cersei not approach them. Then she could have enjoyed it for what it was. After all, what Margaery did was a pretty nice thing, she knew that she didn’t want to talk to Cersei and… yeah. No matter what she tells herself, she’s not feeling any better. 

 

While they sit there, in silence, Sansa distracts herself looking around. The visitors are so diverse that it’d be a shame not to spend a moment looking at them all. They range from people like Elinor’s friends, who are just there because they can get wasted without spending too much money (any excuse to drink is a good excuse, they say) to people that are just taking a look around. These are the people who probably didn’t even know that the event was happening until they saw the booths and the crowd; then, of course, there’s the “this is serious business” people, who take wine way too seriously in Sansa’s opinion (that’d be Elinor and Margaery’s family… and quite possibly Cersei, too) but to each their own, they’re pretty harmless, although they can be quite pretentious and annoying when having a conversation about wine. It’s a very interesting mix because you can see how the experts look down on the others while the youngest visitors are just carefree, enjoying their time there without worrying about the judgement from the others. This “I don’t give a shit” attitude is probably alcohol-induced, which makes Sansa regret the fact that she stopped drinking. Maybe she’d be happier if she had kept doing it. 

“What on Earth is going on with you two?” Margaery emerges from the group of people and plops down next to Elinor. “Who died?”

Sansa thinks “ _my hopes and dreams_ ” (quite dramatically, even she realizes herself) and lets Elinor answer. After all, they’re the cousins, she’s no one. 

“Everything’s fine.” Elinor shrugs, unconvincingly. “I mean, y’know.” 

“If it’s boy trouble, let me tell you, you’re being stupid.” Margaery glances towards the group. “He’s been looking at you all night long, it’s not his fault you’re playing hard to get!” 

Elinor scoffs. “Am not!” 

Margaery just stares at her, unfazed. “Come on, El. Get real.” 

Sansa blocks the conversation, she doesn’t want to hear any of it. She doesn’t want to hear Margaery’s voice and get bitter and bitter with each new word she says because she sounds so… so okay! Why can’t Sansa feel like that, too?

Suddenly she hears her name and tunes back into the conversation. Both Elinor and Margaery are looking at her with curiosity. 

“Yes?” 

“Are you okay?” Elinor frowns. “You look weird. Doesn’t she look weird?” 

“Thanks for that.” Sansa mutters, a bit annoyed. She doesn’t want them talking about her. She wants to be left alone. 

“I think she looks perfect as it is, El.” Margaery gives Elinor a smug grin, and the other girl just rolls her eyes. 

“Why are we discussing this?” Sansa asks, not bothering to sound rude. It’s too late for politeness. Apparently there _is_ a politeness limit after all, and it looks like she has reached it. 

“Let’s go home, I’m tired and you’re… I don’t even know.” Elinor shakes her head, but Sansa knows that she’s amused by all of it. 

“Don’t do it for me.” She says, bitterly. 

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m doing it for me.” Elinor winks an eye at her as she laughs. “I might ask Alyn to come watch a movie, if that’s okay.” 

Great. Now Sansa will have to go to sleep early if she doesn’t want want to hear her friend having sex with her boy. _Great_. 

“Alyn!” Margaery calls the boy and Elinor hits her thigh. “Come here.” 

The boy does as commanded, and Sansa understands why. She’s also been doing whatever Margaery’s asked since they met. He says something to his friends before walking towards the girls. 

“Yes, m’ladies?” He bows in front of them, quite theatrically. Margaery and Elinor laugh, Sansa, well… she doesn’t. 

“We’re leaving.”

“What? Already?” He frowns, like those words were the most unexpected thing he could have heard. 

“We’re going to watch a movie.” Elinor says. And then she adds with a smirk on her face. “Do you want to come over?” 

His face goes from shock to bliss in a couple of seconds, probably understanding the whole meaning of it (which is quite impressive considering the amount of wine he’s probably had). 

“Awesome!” 

Sansa groans internally. How great. 

“Marg, come join us. There are plenty beds and couches at home… One’s bound to have your name on it.”

She can’t help but raise her eyes to meet Margaery’s, who strangely is also looking at her. 

“I don’t know about that.” Margaery finally turns to her cousin. “It’s late.” 

“Exactly.” Elinor looks pleased with herself. “ It’s late and you’ve had a lot to drink and you should come with us so you won’t have to go home alone. Come on! It’ll be fun, won’t it, Sansa?” 

_Why are you asking me?!_ She doesn’t say it, she can’t. What she does instead is give a half nod and a half shrug, like she doesn’t care much. She’s such a great pretender. 

“Okay then… if you’re all so enthusiastic about it!” Margaery winks an eye at her and Sansa feels the heat on her cheeks. Damn that gorgeous girl and her winks. 

“Yay, Marg’s coming!” Elinor throws herself on her cousin’s arms and then pulls Alyn into the hug, soon they’re all laughing and being silly, and Sansa’s glad that she was far from them because if she knew Elinor like she did, she would have been pulled into the hug too. 

“Come on, I’ll drive.” Alyn says after they’ve said their goodbyes. 

He starts checking his pockets for what Sansa believes must be his car keys when Elinor hits him on the back of his head without too much force. 

“You’re an idiot. There’s no way you’re driving.” 

“I’m okay!” He says as he rubs the spot where she hit him, jokingly. 

“You’re clearly not. Neither of us are.” 

“Let’s get a taxi and get over with this.” Margaery says as she sighs. “It’s too late to be arguing about this.” 

“You’re a clever girl, Margaery Tyrell. I guess it runs in the family.” Elinor says, a lopsided grin on her face. 

The girl takes the lead and Sansa’s hand. Elinor guides her towards the exit, and while they walk trying to find a taxi, Sansa can’t stop thinking about what’s going on and what her role is going to be that night. Sure, they’ve said that they’re just going to watch a movie, but they all know that it’s just an excuse for Elinor and Alyn to hook up. Even Sansa in her naiveness knows that! And Elinor probably invited Margaery just so she would keep her company so it wouldn’t be as awkward. The prospect of the evening doesn’t sound too appealing to Sansa, if she’s being honest. It’s kind of bittersweet, because she does want to be in Margaery’s company, but she’s too embarrassed and angry at herself to enjoy the time that they’re going to spend together. 

 

Surprisingly enough, they do watch a movie after all. All that stuff that Sansa thought, about it being just a way of speaking… well, her friend was more literal than she thought. 

Now Sansa doesn’t know whether she should have wished that it had been an excuse, because the movie they pick is a weird and obscure one that Sansa hadn’t even heard of. Although the worst part is that the damn movie is scary as hell… or well, no, that’s not the worst. There’s something else. Because despite all the alarms going off in her brain, she has ended up being huddled against Margaery and she’s been using her as a shield when something creepy happened onscreen. 

Her brain knows better, it knows that Sansa is making a mistake by getting so close to Margaery, she’s going to get hurt again and she’s going to be the only one to blame, but her heart doesn’t care. Her heart wants the proximity, and despite all the alarms, the heart’s way louder than the brain. Also, Margaery isn’t complaining. In fact, she’s even encouraging it because whenever the music gets intense, the kind of tune that makes you realize that something bad’s about to happen… well, when that happens Margaery puts her hand on Sansa’s and she squeezes, as if telling her to stay strong. She doesn’t know how she’s going to survive the night. 

 

A bit more than halfway through the movie Elinor and Alyn start kissing. Sansa thinks _finally!_ and she shakes her head when Margaery nudges her. She looks amused and with a reason. Gods, they were being so obvious! At least now they’ve stopped the charade and they can just get on with it. 

“On a scale of one to ten… how awkward are you feeling?” Margaery whispers next to her ear. 

Sansa feels her breath and they’re so close and she just wants to kiss her again. That’s the awkward part, not the fact that her friend and her boy are kissing. 

“Saw it coming, though…” Sansa whispers back. 

The room’s dimly lit but it’s enough for her to see Margaery’s smile creeping onto her face. She’s signaling something that Sansa doesn’t understand, but it’s probably not because the lack of light but because they’re so close that Sansa’s not even trying to focus on anything that’s not Margaery’s face. 

“Get a room!” Margaery throws a pillow at the couple, laughing when it hits its mark. 

Elinor rubs her shoulder, the place where the pillow hit, and glares at both girls. Sansa feels even more embarrassed now, it would have been easier to pretend that it wasn’t happening! But then it’s too late because Elinor throws the pillow back. 

“Ouch!” 

And of course, it is Sansa, who had been a mere spectator of the exchange, who ends up being hit on the chest by the damn thing. All of them start laughing at the stupidity of the whole thing and for a moment, Sansa forgets all her troubles, it’s just fun. 

“You know what? We are getting a room, advantages of this being my fucking apartment.” Elinor gives them a wicked grin and helps Alyn to get up from the couch. “Bye, losers.” 

“G’night.” He says, a lazy smile on his face and droopy eyes. 

When Elinor turns the tv off, Sansa realizes that she’s about to be completely alone with the stupidly gorgeous Margaery Tyrell. The girl who kissed her not long ago and who’s acting as if that had been the most normal thing in the world. Is it? Is it normal for her? Is that what she does? So many questions, so little answers. 

“Want something to drink? I know where Elinor keeps the good stuff.” 

Maybe it’d be good, maybe it’d help her to stop her overthinking brain. But she doesn’t want wine, or any other thing, she… she wants to be fully aware of what’s going on, even if her own thoughts are nerve-wracking. 

“I’m okay.” She says, and her voice sounds a lot more confident than she feels like. She congratulates herself for it, it’s a small victory after all. “Just came back from a wine fair, you know.” 

Margaery laughs softly as she gets up from the couch. Sansa instantly misses her proximity. Margaery walks around the living room, she looks at the pictures that decorate the shelves and Sansa follows her with her eyes. She notices how Margaery drags her fingertips across a family portrait. She watches every move with intent, who knows if those will help her figure Margaery out, just like the other girl did with her. 

“We’re out of excuses.” Margaery turns to her, slowly, as if she wanted to allow Sansa to have that one second to think about what was going to happen next. 

“Excuses?” 

“Well, I don’t think your ex is going to walk by anytime soon.” Margaery smiles as she talks and Sansa’s heart does strange things again. Damn. 

She finds it hard to look for words but she manages somehow. “No, I don’t think she will…” 

Margaery drops the hand that was still lying on the shelf. “So, as I said… we’re out of excuses.” 

“Maybe… maybe we could find another?” Sansa suggests. The statement’s as bold as she can be, but the prospect of kissing Margaery again is something she can’t and won’t ignore. 

“We could do that.” Margaery turns to stare at the objects on the shelf again and Sansa uses the opportunity to take a deep breath. “Or we could just accept what we want and be done with it. Why pretending?” 

Can Margaery hear her heartbeat? Sansa’s pretty sure that it’ll soon be heard by everyone in the building. She wouldn’t be surprised if Elinor and Alyn would come out of their room, half naked, wondering where that loud thumping was coming from. But Sansa and Margaery are still alone after a few seconds, which means that it’s not as loud as she’s feeling it. That gives her some confidence… but it doesn’t last. Gods, she’s kissed girls before! She’s had girlfriends, she’s done all the normal things you do in a relationship… and still Sansa’s legs tremble as Margaery walks slowly towards her. 

Sansa doesn’t have time to move, or to stand up at least, and it’s really unfair, she thinks while she assess the situation. She’s in clear disadvantage, she can only stare and wait for Margaery… 

“This is going to complicate things…” Sansa whispers, almost to herself. 

“Things will be as complicated as we want to make them…” Margaery states, simply. 

And then she surprises Sansa by straddling her. She puts her hands on both sides of Sansa’s face and smiles. All of Sansa’s thoughts are on hold, she just can’t believe that this is happening, that she’s about to— No, not about. She’s kissing Margaery again. Margaery, who tastes like the Highgarden wine that they have been drinking all evening; who saved her from having to talk to her ex; who, pretty much until that day, Sansa hadn’t known much about… Margaery, who had gained control of all her thoughts the moment she had seen her; who had won her over with her nice ways and with her attitude. _That_ Margaery. 

They kiss intently because now they both know what they want (each other, which is a thought that makes Sansa dizzy). Sansa’s hands travel up and down Margaery’s back, and when Margaery half kisses, half bites her neck, Sansa lets out a sigh that sounds like a moan. Their kisses get messy pretty soon because they want too much at the same time and some things, they can’t be. But they’re kissing. They’re touching. They’re tangling hands on hair, biting, breathing almost the same air, they’re _there_. 

Sansa doesn’t know what will happen, not in three minutes, not in two days. But she smiles to herself nevertheless because the only thing that matters in that moment is that she can keep trying to figure out ways to describe the way Margaery tastes like. Wine… Who cares about wine?

**Author's Note:**

> I attended a wine fair recently and I caught this plot bunny... Sadly, I didn't meet any Sansas nor Margaerys there. Quite disappointing, if you ask me.
> 
> PS. It's super late and even though I proof read it, I'm sure I left stuff out. So... my fic, my mistakes :)


End file.
